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Shanna
shannalynn9064@yahoo.com
Spike sat in the back seat of the Great Poof-Mobile, arms crossed and glaring stakes in the back of his grand-sire's gelled head. Angel and Wesley sat up front, the vampire behind the wheel.
"Why the bloody hell does a vampire need a convertible anyway? Can't exactly head down to the beach with your surfboard and catch a tan. Got a secret death wish, Peaches? I could only hope."
"It's better than that jalopy you're still driving. How can you even see to drive through those windows?"
"It's a gift." The blond growled as he tried to light his cigarette for the sixth time, but the wind continued to blow out his lighter. "You bleedin' ponce! You put the top down just so I couldn't smoke, didn't you?"
"Spike, I'm not as petty as you. I put the top down because it's a nice night and I thought a little fresh air might do us some good." Angel didn't try to suppress his smirk, knowing the younger vamp couldn't see it reflected in the rearview mirror.
"You're full of it ya big Poof! First off, we don't breathe, so what's the sense in fresh air? And come on, fresh air in LA? Not since the time of the bleedin' gold rush!"
"Gentlemen," Wesley interrupted, "while I can appreciate your differences in opinion, I suggest we quiet ourselves. We're here and I really think it best if we don't alert the demons. . .er, other demons, to our presence just yet. The element of surprise is always a wise strategy.."
Spike rolled his eyes and leapt from the back of the car just as it rolled to a stop. "Pop the trunk, Pops."
Angel gritted his teeth and for the tenth time during the car ride reconsidered his desire to have Spike stay with him in LA. Unlocking the trunk, the three men removed their favored weapons. Wesley tested the weight of a medium sized sword, parrying imagined thrusts and lunging at invisible opponents.
Spike looked heavenward to the Powers above as he hefted his battleaxe. "How in the hell did I get stuck with these two Nancyboys?" 'Oh, right. Red.' A goofy grin crossed his face as he remembered her laying beneath him, suckling at that pale neck, savoring such rich blood as he thrust in her wet tight center. Her whispered 'I love you' earlier had sent his undead heart soaring. He couldn't wait to get back to the witch, to crawl between the cool sheets and sink into her warm body again. He just couldn't seem to get enough of his redhead.
Angel gripped his broadsword and shut the trunk, amused by the besotted look on the blonde's face. "Ready?"
The younger vampire frowned at the darker man, his contemplation of what he was going to do with Red when they got back to the hotel being interrupted. "Just stay the hell out of my way, Peaches. Watch a real vampire work." He pushed past his grand-sire, making his way to the front door of the warehouse.
Angel and Wesley hurried to catch up with the strutting blond. Angel gripped his shoulder and spun him around to face him. "Spike, we're not going to rush in there without checking out the place first."
"Everything has to be your way, doesn't it Peaches," the blond snarled. "Angel always gets his way. Bloody Poofter! Doesn't matter what anybody else wants. . ."
"Spike," the older vampire hissed, "what are you ranting about now?"
"What am I ranting about? You've got stones, Peaches. Big ones!" Amber eyes flashed at Angel as the blond poked him in the chest roughly.
Wesley came running back quietly, winded. "I saw at least a dozen of the Tildrib demons. They all appear to be gathered around an altar. I believe they are attempting to call forth their master, whoever or whatever it may be."
"Well, let's go take out the little buggers then, eh?" Spike spun out of Angel's grip and stalked toward the warehouse again.
"Spike. . ." The older vampire once again ran to catch up to the blond. The tension radiating off his form was palpable. "Spike!" He gripped the younger man's arm again only to have him spin to face him, eyes glowing amber, fangs elongated, brow ridged.
"You. Lied. To. Me," he gritted through his clenched fangs.
"Lied? About what?" Angel was confused. It was obvious Spike was extremely upset. He would have to be in order for him to lose such control over his demon.
"You told me you didn't care for her the way I do. You told me you cared about her, but not loved. I heard you, you bastard. You told her you loved her." Spike gripped Angel by the throat and squeezed tightly, only wishing that the Great Poof actually breathed so it would do some sort of harm.
Angel's eyes widened. Had he really slipped that badly? He remembered thinking it, but had he actually spoken the words to the sweet girl lying so trusting beneath two master vampires, offering up her blood to them? Had he actually told Willow he loved her?
"Oh, damn," he mumbled.
"Thought maybe the cheerleader was off her fuckin' rocker. Maybe she was just paranoid where Red was concerned after what happened between her and the moron when I kidnapped them. But no, she was right. You're as head over fuckin' heels in love with her as I am, aren't you, you bastard?!" Spike shook his grand-sire, his demon begging him to just tear his head off his shoulders. "You just can't bear the thought of her with me. You can't stand the idea the I have something you want. Why can't I just have someone of my own once without you interfering?"
The blonde's demon face receded, and his blue eyes reflected a sadness. "Why can't you just let her love me?"
"Spike, I never meant. . ."
"I can understand why you love her," the blond said softly. "What moron wouldn't? I mean besides the moron. She has a fire in her that draws a bloke in, you know?"
"Spike, I never meant to hurt you like this. I do care about Willow, maybe more than I was willing to admit in the past. But I care about you too."
Wesley, sensing a serious conversation between the two vampires, shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Right, well, I'll go do a little more recon, then while you gentlemen discuss. . .your issues." He turned and took off back toward the warehouse.
"Right. Care about me? Since when? You went and got all soul-havin' and it was so long Spike, hello redemption. Redemption! Bah! Fine lot of good it did you. Still skulkin' around in the dark broodin' over a past you can't change. At least Angelus knew how to have a bit of fun. And he cared about us, me and Dru. We were his childer. His family. Dru made me but you were my Sire. You deserted us, left us with Darla. And let me tell you, that bloody bint was in a fine state after you left. Rantin' and beatin' every fledge, minion and childer in sight, all brassed off because the fates had ripped her Angelus away, her boy."
"I didn't know. I thought you wouldn't want me around," Angel lowered his eyes, feeling guilt for deserting the two vampires he created, he molded, his childer.
"You should have bloody well asked then! If you thought Dru was bad before you left, she went right over the fuckin' edge once her daddy was gone. Started punishin' her dolls 'cause they told her you weren't comin' back. Said they told her you didn't love us anymore."
Angel's head shot up. "I *never* stopped loving you and Dru. You always were and always will be my childer, soul or not. Nothing can change that."
"You've got a funny way of showin' it. Helpin' the Slayer try to off me and Dru when we first showed up in Sunnyhell. I was only tryin' to help her. She was weak after that mob got a hold of her in Prague. She's family. We stick together, or so I thought. . ."
Spike broke off when Angel pulled him close, vamped and sunk his fangs into the blonde's neck, drinking deeply. The younger vamp stiffened in surprise at first, then relaxed into his grand-sire's embrace, feeling his blood flow into Angel's mouth. The dark haired man lapped at the wound before leaning back and staring into surprised blue eyes. "Mine. Always. Forever."
"Yours," Spike whispered, feeling his demon bow to the dominance of his grand-sire. Feeling the older man drink from him was reassuring, a claiming of familial ties, reasserting his acceptance and connection with the blond. The younger vamp's eyes widened as he watched Angel unbutton his shirt and pull the collar aside, baring his neck to his grand-childe.
"Drink, William," Angel commanded softly.
Spike looked at Angel like a puppy being teased with its favorite toy, afraid it would be ripped from within his reach at the last second. He morphed and slowly, reverently slid his fangs into his grand-sire's neck, drawing out the cool rich blood. This was not a ceremony to cement a promise. This was a sire renewing his bond with a childe. A sire offering a childe his blood was the greatest honor and comfort one could receive. Spike felt his grand-sire's hand cupping the back of his head gently and shivered as the single word whispered in his ear penetrated his cautious joy. "Yours."
Lifting his head the blond looked up into sincere brown eyes. "Mine," he whispered, questioning the older man.
"Always," Angel replied softly.
"Sire. . .," Spike began, only to be interrupted by Wesley running up to the vampires, panting.
"Too late." The former watcher doubled over, trying to catch his breath.
Angel frowned at his coworker. "Too late? What do you mean?"
"They raised it." *pant* *gasp*
"Raised what, you bloody prat?" Spike grumbled at the other Brit.
"Zagordona demon. Large, 9" tall," *pant* "blue scales," *gasp* "venomous claws."
"Damn! Let's go!" The two vampires took off running toward the warehouse. Wesley wheezed for air, rolled his head back, then took off after the two.
****************************************
The fight was a viscous one. The dozen Tildrib demons Wesley saw were only the ones used in the ceremony to raise their Master. There were another two dozen or so that had wandered in from other parts of the warehouse to pay homage to their newly risen Lord.
By the time the vampires and the former watcher had crashed into the warehouse approximately forty of the small demons surrounded the large Zagordona demon in the middle of the room. The Tildribs didn't have any special abilities. They just had really, really sharp teeth, almost a Chihuahua with a Doberman attitude, if you would.
The battle raged as the Zagordona ordered his mini-minions to attack and destroy the intruders that dared to crash the ancient ceremony calling him forth. The three men had cut a wide path through the smaller demons and were approaching the true danger looming large in the center of the remaining Tildribs.
Angel caught movement out of the corner of his eyes and spotted one of the minions hurl a sharp piece of broken plank from one of the crates at Spike. Lunging toward his grand-childe, everything seemed to go in slow motion. Yelling "No!" at the top of his lungs, he pushed the blond out of the way, only to feel the wood penetrate his upper back.
The two vampires collapsed to the floor, the force of Angel's lunge taking them down.
****************************************
On the other side of LA, Willow was enjoying a relaxing bubble bath. The stress of the last few days had caught up with her, especially after her phone call back to Sunnydale. Running a soapy loofa over her leg, she hummed tunelessly to herself, feeling the tension ease away in the warm water. She silently reminded herself to thank Cordelia for the use of her bath products as she blew a cluster of bubbles from the back of her hand as she squeezed out the loofa. Her former classmate had told her to help herself before heading out the door for her date, "with a guy that's really cute, so he's probably either gay or married, but it's dinner and the new Matt Damon movie, so who am I to say no?"
Suddenly she was hit with a terrible sensation of dread. Sitting up in the tub, water sloshing around her, the redhead felt tears fill her eyes. "Angel!" Gasping as she felt the air whoosh from her lungs, the witch struggled to pull herself from the tub, sobbing quietly. Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong.
Not bothering to dry off, Willow threw on her pink robe before she padded downstairs in search of the first aid kit Wesley had showed her. She only hoped it wasn't too late for her to use it.
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